Insanity
by ijustlovemesomefriedchicken
Summary: "I really don't know what to do with him, Peej. I've looked on the internet for symtoms of anything, I've tried phoning these NHS helplines, but they just think I'm trolling them...I've asked online for help and people think I'm insane...I think I'm going the same way as him...I-I don't know how much longer I can cope. I don't even know what he has! It's keeping me up at night!"
1. Hysteria

**I know I have like five other phanfictions to finnish, not to mention a House of Anubis one and another planned Adventure Time one, but I've already written ALL of this story on my tablet, so all I have to do is rewrite it on this! Fun, huh? **

PJ and I came up in the lift, still not brave enough to attempt the stairs, and I rushed across the landing straight to the door, to Dan. I didn't like leaving him alone for too long I was slightly worried something might've happened.

PJ was close behind. "Do you think Dan'll like that husky blue colour we saw for the living room? I could paint you guys a mural, even! I've always wanted to do that but my mum wouldn't let me, then my university wouldn't let me and then Chris got wallpaper and now I'm sad..." he pretended to pout.

"Yeah, I bet Dan would really appreciate that, Peej. Thanks," I smiled, but I wasn't so sure. I turned back to the door to pull the door handle, getting a fright when it wouldn't move; locked. I felt panic start to set in.

"Does he usually lock the door?"

"No. No, he doesn't," I frowned. I told him only to lock the door at night when we were both going to sleep, after he'd come in and read me more of The Memory Keeper's Daughter **(great book btw) **and when he'd finnish it we'd simply start again with the same enthusiasm, as if he'd never came across it in his life.

"Are you going to knock, or are we going to stand out here all evening?"

"Oh, uhm, yeah," I said and knocked. A minute or so later, just as I started to panic even further and was about to knock again, the door opened a crack, still with the chain on, to reveal an extremely nervous looking Dan.

"Phil...i-is that you?"

"No, Dan, it's the Queen and her sex slave, c'mon man, let us in!" PJ joked, with a hint of cautiousness in his voice.

"I'M SERIOUS!" he screamed. PJ and I gulped simultaneously; he'd gotten worse. In the few hours I'd stupidly thought I could leave him alone for ("You go, I'll be fine..") he'd somehow deteriated again.

We exchanged a worried glance before I took a step towards him and said in the soothing voice I always used with him, smooth as silk, "Yes, Danny, it's me and Peej. C'mon, let us in, hey? I won't hurt you, I love you. It's freezing out here!" I smiled.

He nodded vigourously, closing the door to unhook the chain, then opening it wide. "I'm sorry, u-uhm, we could- we could get some tea or c-coffee?"

"Yeah," PJ agreed, smiling, trying to keep a calm and level head like mine, but Dan was making it more and more difficult as he ushered us in, his eyes darting around in their sockets nervously. He jumped practically a foot in the air when PJ started to ask him, "How was- oh, sorry I scared you there, Dan. I was just going to ask how your day was."

I shot a grateful smile at him, a thanks for how good he was with him, even though Dan was always wary; he could only try his best and it wasn't Dan's fault I was the only one he trusted completely. PJ was so patient with him, and always so gentle. Anyonw else would've freaked out by now, even Chris couldn't be in the same room with him for long before making up some excuse to leave. He made everyone feel so on edge, even me most of the time, and I'm sure PJ felt the same.

"I've- I've just been here all day, keeping a-an eye out...y'know...I had to l-lock the door...AND I WAS JUST MAKING SURE!"

I took a deep breath. "Keeping an eye out for who, Dan?" I spoke to him like a small child.

His eyes turned to mist, his thoughts ovbiously away out the door and down the street. "Them, of course."

"Soooo...about that tea..."

"I'll make it," I said instantly. "And PJ can help me, yeah Dan?"

No answer.

"Dan?"

Nothing. A not-at-home expression was plastered on his face as me and PJ had no other choice but to drag him over to his sofa-creased couch and go make the tea like normal, as if he had sat down in any normal way with any normal looking feature about him.

We had a muttered conversation in the kitchen, like your parents do when you think you're not straining your ears outside the door, but Dan could hardly be that little child. Not anymore.

"I really don't know what to do with him, Peej. I've looked on the internet for symtoms of anything, I've tried phoning these NHS helplines, but they just think I'm trolling them...I've asked online for help and people think I'm insane...I think I'm going the same way as him...I-I don't know how much longer I can cope. I don't even know what he has! It's keeping me up at night! All my time is spent making him cups of tea that just sit there untill they get cold, worrying about him, putting Dexter on to make him feel better...putting Dexter on is the worst..."

**(For those of you that don't know what Dexter is, BASICALLY it's one of the best TV shows ever. It's this guy called- yep, you guessed it, gold star- Dexter and he works for the police in blood forensics, analysing the blood at crime scenes and all that jazz, he even has cool shades. But, him and his foster father started this thing where they would kill evil people, so he's working right under the police's nose- including his sister who works in homocide- killing all the bad people, torturing them...it's a bit graphic, but it's SO good. And that was a bit more than a basic explaination. Sorry...)**

"What does he do when Dexster's on? Does he go nuts or...?"

"Worse. He just gets this insane smile on his face, and he doesn't stop grinning untill the episode is finnished, not saying a word. And then he just goes back to...well, that. I don't know what to do. Without you and Chris, I think I'd be mad as the hatter by now."

"Maybe Dexster isn't the best thing...maybe keeping him locked up in here all day isn't the best either, Phil! I'd take him to get help. I really would. Staring at four walls all day and watching TV shows about a cerial killer isn't going to help anyone. It was okay when we thought it was just some temporary thing or a prank, but it's been half a year!"

I sighed. "This...this is going to sound insane but I'll say it anyway...I'm scared of hurting his feelings. And, worst of all, I'm scared of him. He's not well, Peej, but I don't want to shatter the trust he has in me, however insane he is. He's my best friend."

"Phil, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think he's Dan anymore."

"Who isn't?" came a voice from a door. A voice I'd know anywhere. Cold as ice, as smooth as a snake slithering down a sheet of silk, and I didn't even have to look up from PJ and the long boiled kettle to know that as soon as that insane tone of voice set in, something was wrong. It was the voice that haunted me, sleeping and waking, and the voice I was most scared of. PJ glanced at me quickly, and my fear registered; he was preparing himself for the worst, as I was. We both raised our heads slowly, and there it was; literally the worst thing we could've imagined.

I wish I could tell you Dan was completely normal again, standing there ready to catapult a Totoro at us or standing there giggling at a plastic plasenta he'd found in God know's what shop, or maybe he could've been secretly filming something, but I'm afraid to say this was hardly the case; far from it.

Dan was standing in the doorway with the smile of a pyscopath all over his face, his eyes glinting with something completely evil...and the worst part, a huge kitchen knife, already stained with dried blood- or hopefully tomato ketchup- cluthed tightly in his left hand.

"Who's next?" he skreiked, just before the off-key hysterical laughing started, echoing off every surface and impaling us from all sides.


	2. Dan Doesn't Wear Pajammas

**This got such a good reception and THANKYOUUUUU. Also thanks to...I'm forgetting your username... I think it was Dev The Maniac? I'm too lazy to go and check. Thanks for pointing out there was indeed a typo in the title and I'd spelled it Insantiy because I'm a twat who doesn't proofread anything xD**

**moving on!**

"I-I've got this," I muttered to PJ as I walked over to Dan, slowly and steadily, trying to appear as confident as I dared to. His smile was even more sickly up close, and I got to him just as his laughter stopped too abruptly, as if that horrifying sound- almost as bad as nails on a blackboard, or teeth on a plate- had never exsisted.

"So, Phil, I didn't think you wanted to die," he grinned.

"I don't, Dan," I said as calmly as possible, "I want to live. With you! Like it's always been! You're my best friend and I love you, no matter what. No one is going to die tonight, okay? Let's just all sit down and have a nice cup of tea- you don't even have to put the knife dow-"

Before I could finnish barginning with him in my baby voice, I felt a slice into my face and crashed onto the kitchen tiles, warm blood trickling from just below my eye.

Something clicked within Dan as his legs started to shake and PJ's breathing grew more ragged behind me. "Phil, I- I'm so sorry," he whispered, kneeling down beside me and reaching out to touch my face. It was almost like he was normal, he was Dan again. I could see the apology welling up in his eyes along with tears and his kindness was showing through; _Dan_ was showing through. I felt the corners of my mouth turn upwards as I smiled at him, the first time I had smiled in so long.

"Are you okay, Phil?" PJ chipped in.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Dan, I'm fine, see? Just a bit of blood, I'll be fine."

"I'm so so sorry, I-I just- NO!" he screamed, flailing on the floor, kicking and hitting all the kitchen cupboards, pounding his fists on the hard titled floor as if he felt nothing, the insanity back in his eyes.

"PJ!" I called frantically, "help me pin him down, he'd going to hurt himself!"

PJ was quick to react, and though Dan was fairly strong, we managed between us to wrestle him to floor; I stradled his waist and pinned his wrists while PJ awkwardly sat on his legs to stop him kicking out like an out-of-control horse. I was thankful to PJ for the second time that day, because usually Dan's strength would overpower me and I would end up being beaten to a pulp untill I was purple all over. It was just a side effect, and it was a side effect I could live with.

Dan's breathing soon slowed, and when we thought he was calm enough to be released, we slowly losened our grips on him. He didn't move.

"Dan?"

"Phil, you're still bleeding, maybe you should-?"

"Dan's more important, I don't _care_! Dan? Dan, say something!"

"Phil!"

"Dan! DAN!" I was almost crying, making my cut sting even more, but I hardly noticed. Would you notice something minor like that if your best friend could be _dying_?"

"Phil."

I turned to him. "_Dan._"

"_PHIL, WILL YOU FUCKING LISTEN TO ME FOR ONE SECOND!"_

I looked back at him again and swallowed. "Sorry..."

"Is he still breathing?"

I put an ear to his chest, which was indeed rising and falling. I nodded, but felt unable to pull myself away, and PJ didn't bother trying.

"Dan, please say something," I whispered. "Anything."

"Anything," he muttered.

"Dan! Why didn't you say anything?"

He sat up, knocking me off his chest with no effort. "It was _them_ again. Phil, they wouldn't let me talk. I wanted to answer you but they-"

With no warning, he stood up and walked out of the room normally as if nothing had happened. PJ shot a concerned look at me which was clearly a mix of _WTF _and _Aren't you going to follow him?_

"Dan, where are you going?"

"To get into pajammas."

"Dan, you don't wear pajammas!"

But I got no answer. I was about to call again, but PJ said, "Just leave him be, he'll be fine. If we hear anything, we can just go up and help him, okay? Babying him all the time isn't the answer."

I didn't aknowledge what he'd said.

"Now you see why he scares me, don't you?"

He simply nodded. Nothing else was needed.


	3. Distrust and The Nosy Neighbour

The next ten or so minutes dragged for what seemed like ages. I fidgeted, I went to stand up, I went to go check on him, but PJ was sticking by his 'Dan needs independence' philosophy.

"He's been gone for ages, you've seen how unstable he is! He could hurt himself!" I was almost in tears again.

"Phil, maybe he isn't as bad as you thin-"

"Yeah, he just brandishes knives about and turns into a pyscopath every once in a while because he is _completely_ _freaking normal_!" I screamed.

There was a crashing and a thumping and a banging as a heard of elephants charged downstairs, or maybe two very fast feet. Dan appeared in the doorway, panting. "Phil, what's wrong, is everything okay? You...you yelled."

I let out a breath. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just worried. Are you okay, Dan?"

"Who's Dan?" he raised an eyebrow. This had happened before, and I hated it when he forgot who he was, the very fibres of himself. It was horrible to think like that.

"You're Dan, silly billy..."

"No I'm not, I'm PHIL STRIKER!"

My face fell; other times he'd just say he didn't know who he was, that he just wasn't Dan, or one day he said he worked at the Malteasers factory- that one usually made me smile- but never this. I could've screamed at him, this wasn't Dan at all. No way.

"Dan, you're Dan," PJ smiled from behind me, as I had to disappear into the kitchen for a minute to get a tissue. 'Getting a tissue' ended up literally meaning wacking my head off the kitchen counter untill I thought my head would surely smash open.

"Why. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing. This. To. Me. Dan? Why. Can't. I. Help. You!"

"I'm sorry," came a whisper from behind me. I couldn't lift my head to look at him.

"Dan it's not-"

"It is. It's _them_, Phil, they won't leave me alone."

I spun around and everything just tumbled out. "And who the hell _are_ these things, huh? How come I've never bloody set eyes on one? Are you keeping them all to yourself, HUH? What do they look like, are they fucking fairies?"

PJ came to Dan's aid as he heard me screaming, putting an arm on Dan's shoulder as he stood there shellshocked. "I think Phil just needs a little space just now. Would you like to watch some TV?"

Dan nodded, still looking at me with a look of shock, but it was now made even worse by the distrust that had started to appear in his eyes. I sat at the breakfast bar with my head on the table, the coolness of the surface soothing me slightly. Dan wouldn't trust me again, and it was all my fault.

_Chap chap chap_. The sound of the letterbox being rattled filled the house, all the way up into the kitchen. I froze, then, feeling stupid for getting a fright off someone at the _door_, I got up and answered it. The door swung open to Mrs Catamole who lived upstairs. She was about 60 or 70 I'd have said, though I'd never thought it polite to ask her age. She was heavily wrinkled, but that didn't stop her wearing far too much blue eyeshadow and a whole stick of bright crimson lipstick, and don't even get me started on her very...unique sense of fashion. "Hi Phil, look I've been meaning to come down and visit you for several days, but I keep putting it off. I'm afraid I can't ignore the noises I'm hearing any more and I insist you tell me what's going on right now!"

And Dan chose the best time to open his fat mouth. "Dan, who's at the door?"

"I was under the impression that _his_ name was Dan," she didn't look one bit amused.

"He...he...yeah, he is, but he's... drunk. That's all, we were out a while ago and we bumped into an old friend, so we stayed for a few drinks. Dan's never been able to handle his alcohol, I mean-"

"I'm shocked by how much of a terrible liar you are," she snapped. "Truth please, or I'm barging right in here to find out for myself."

I didn't notice PJ was behind me untill he had started to speak. "Hi, Mrs...?"

"Catamole."

"Catamole. Pleasure. I'm Dan and Phil's friend, we used to all go to uni together, we haven't seen each other in quite a few years now, so when we bumped into each other we _had_ to catch up, right?" I was relieved PJ was a much better liar than me.

"If you haven't seen your little friends since uni, tell me what you were doing here just a few days ago?" she said, trying to hide her triumphant smile and failing miserably.

"You've been spying on me?!"

"Well someone has to keep an eye on you two youngsters, don't they? Far too young to be living on your own, I say! Y'know what age I was when I got my own flat?"

"No, quite frankly I don't bloody care! Get your giant nose out of our business you nosy old cow!" I screamed at her before I slammed the door in her face so hard the door frame rattled.

"Well I'll say!" she muttered to herself before shuffling back over to the lift. ("Going up" could faintly be heard.)

"You do know she'll be back, right?"

"Yep," I sighed.

"That could be a problem."

"Yup!" Dan called cheerily, not making either of us feel any better.


	4. Chris

**sorry I haven't updated any of my stories in ages, I haven't had internet for a while since we got central heating in (it was needed since this kinda is Glasgow...SO WARMMMMMM! ^_^ ) enjoy more of insane Dan!**

We watched Dexter for hours and hours that night, PJ refusing to leave even when I gave him the chance of escape numerous times. He seemed to geniunely enjoy Dan's company, seemily not on edge at all; like old times. The episode we were currently watching finnished and Dan began to whine.

"PJ, PJ more Dexter! More Dexter!"

"You...you remembered PJ's name, Dan?" I smiled.

"Of course I did, Bob!"

I scowled.

"Why don't we watch something else, eh Dan? We could stick some Death Note on, or maybe The Hunger Gam-?"

"Dexter! Dexter! Dexter! DEXTER!" Dan screamed.

PJ gave in. "Okay, okay, I'll go get the next box set." And off he went, leaving me and Dan sitting on the couch alone.

"So Bob, what do you do for a living?"

If there was something solid in front of me I would've hit my head several times off of it.

Thankfully before I had to answer, PJ returned, holding the box set triumphantly in the air, and Dan's attention was drawn to him, like a dog is drawn to whoever is holding the bag of treats.

PJ inserted the disc into the drive, not even asking Dan if he was positive he wanted to watch more; it was etched on every inch of his face.

"You sticking around, Phil?"

I couldn't bear to. All the blood, guts and gore, not to mention the sick smile on my innocent Dan's face...I would throw up, surely? Probably on Dan.

"No...no, I'm gonna call it a night. I...I can't."

"C'mon Bob, there's another seventeen whole episodes! Come watch with me and my best friend! Is that okay, Peej?"

For a second I froze, as did PJ. "N-no, Dan, Phil here, he's your best friend. I'm Chris's best friend, y'see? Phil, he loves you and-"

"Chris. He hates me," Dan almost...growled?

_Oh great, he even remembers Chris. Does he remember Jack and Dean too? Alex? Carrie? Mrs bloody Catamole?! I'm the one that was always there for him, was always his best friend...I was more to him than a best friend, we were brothers! Everything I did for him is nothing now._ I couldn't help feeling I was being cheated out of my best friend's love by PJ bringing him Dexter box sets; it just wasn't fair.

"Chris...Dan, he doesn't hate yo-"

"Yes he does. And I made sure he regretted it," he said blankly. Then, after he'd finnished his statement, his mouth spread into the most satisfied grin I'd ever seen.

"What...what do you mean?" PJ managed to ask after several long seconds. Dan said nothing.

We tried asking him several more times, but he just kept focused on Dexter, not even looking at us, like we were on mute. We tried offering him tea, malteasers, poptarts; all were just blanked.

PJ eventually gave up and hissed at me. "Kitchen. NOW."

I ran after him and we both settled on the worktop next to the sink, facing the door this time in case there was a repeat from Dan. Before he could ask anything, I said, "When was the last time you saw Chris?"

Panic mode had obviously set in. "I- I- I don't know. I don't know. A few days ago? Last week? I don't know. What if Dan's done something really horrible to him? Phil, what if I loose him? God! I don't KNOW!"

"PJ, PJ, calm the hell down, okay?"

"R-right. I'm just gonna go and check on him, okay?" He went to get up off the worktop as he said, "I'll be back as soon as poss-" but I stopped him.

"Why don't you give him a call first, huh?"

PJ tried his phone several times- I lost count at seventeen- but it was clear Chris was either out or...out.

"I'll be back really soon, Dan'll be fine with his-"

"I'll go."

"What?"

"Dan trusts you, Peej! If he's alone with me here soon he'll get to think _I_ hate him next. He's more comfortable with you."

"I...I- okay. Call me as _soon_ as you get there, okay?"

"That's a given, of course. See ya," I walked out the kitchen, him close on my heels. "Bye Dan!" I called, even though I knew he was too absorbed in his Dexter to even notice me.

God, I hoped Chris was all right.


	5. Chris' Fate

**this seems to be the only story I'm updating at the moment, idek what I'm doing with the others, so sorry if you read them! c:**

**and thanks to a guest called Speechless (epic name man! or woman..I'm sorry..) who said I wrote the chapter really well and stuff. That was so nice of you, and it also stopped me procrastinating over this for four hours, so there's a plus! thanks again! **

You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach sometimes? Like when you know something's not right; fishy, in a sense. You don't know wether it's instinct or nerves, maybe even paranoia, but there's just this itch and it won't go away no matter how many times you scratch your skin that's crawling with goosebumps.

CRUSTY. **(if you had goosebumps already I've just made it worse. congrats! :D and if you didn't...well...okay, I failed. so what?)**

I reached Chris's door, after what seemed like an hour of walking, and hammered on the door so hard my knuckle throbbed. No answer. No noise. No 'I'm just coming!'. No lights on. No body home. Except I refused to believe the last part.

"Chris?" I called through the letter box. "Chriiiis? Are you dead to the world as well as the internet?"

It was true, though, the last time he had uploaded a video had been more than six months ago, and if it wasn't for the fact he was still tweeting, liking and reblogging away, people would have thought him quite literally dead; he'd lost over 200,000 suscribers already.

"Don't prank me, man, I know you're in there! Quit using Dan to your advantage and let me in! PJ's worrying his ass off back there!" I suddenly raged. Still no answer.

I sighed and tried the doorhandle, mildly suprised to find it unlocked and mildly- or not so- horrified to think _why_ it might be open. Suppose Dan had come in here and carried out some God-awful attack on Chris? Stole something? ...Worse? No, I couldn't let myself think like that, I was being so _stupid!_ But another part of me somehow knew this was strange.

I drew in a breath, forcing myself to put one foot in the front of the other and explore around the house, looking for signs of life. I dreaded the worst, but half of me was still refusing to believe that part of my paranoid brain, trying to convince myself I was being stupid.

"Chris?" I continued to call as I wandered through the living room, the kitchen, back through the living room to get to the hallway thingy, upstairs, through to his room, the spare room and last but not least, regrettably, I stepped into the bathroom. I wish with every bone in my body I didn't, but I did. And the scene was horrific.

Blood. Blood everywhere. I seen it as soon as I poked my head round the door. It was splashed all over the wall, just like in Dexter, all over the sink, the floor and in the shower. Red blood. Dried in blood. It was so dark against the white tiles I was almost fainting by this point, even before I looked in the bath. Oh God, the bath!

There was Chris, absolutely head to toe in his own blood, which had evidently come from several stab wounds in his chest, one in his stomach, one slice through most of his shin and numerous bullets in the head, all crusty with the dark red substance. As if the visual wasn't enough to make me throw up, the smell was absolutely awful too. The stench of death. **(Totally not a Smiths reference in there, nope.)** And worse than death, murder. **(Meat is Murder! oops, there I go again! ^_^ )**


	6. Closing His Eyes

**Updating the NEXT DAY? Lauren, what're you on man?!**

**Sorry for all the Smith puns in the last chapter, I'm a tad obsessed...**

I stood there for what could've been minutes, could've been hours. I couldn't believe what my eyes were displaying to me; this scene of bloods, guts and gore. _Dan couldn't have done this, _I told myself over and over. _He just couldn't have._

But I knew it was like saying why do mice like cheese. There was so many arguements, all of them pointing the finger at him. If he didn't do it, how did he know something bad had happened to Chris? He had a knife stained with blood earlier, right? Have you seen the phycotic look about him? He's not stable, couldn't he have done anything and not even remember it? After all, he can't remember his own name for long.

In all my worry about Dan, Police and PJ, I'd completely forgotten about Chris. Well, not forgotten exactly, but I hadn't thought about it untill it suddenly hit me; Chris was dead. No more Crabstickz. No more stupid videos with PJ as they almost kissed and all their fans hitched their breaths. No more fanfiction about him and PJ, no more...Chris. Chris Kendall was dead and it struck me like a punch in the gut. He was gone.

I dropped to my knees, suddenly not caring about the blood or the awful smell or calling PJ or talking to Dan or anything. I couldn't take my eyes off of Chris, so still with his eyes wide open in shock. At least this was proof he was unexpectedly attacked, wasn't tortured and it was a quick death. Tears started to run down my face in streams, salt getting into my mouth as I bawled, still not quite being able to move.

"Chris," I sobbed. "Who did this to you?" as if I expected him to suddenly rise from the bath of blood and tell me who his attacker was. No, Phil, not attacker; murderer.

Half of me was slightly hoping this might be a prank to see how long he could trick me for, maybe waiting untill his funeral before he jumps up suddenly and screams at all his mourning family and friends "Ha, got you! You should've seen your faces!"

I was pretty sure if he did that, the only people that would be laughing with him would be me, Dan and PJ. True, Dan would either be laughing because we were laughing or laughing at thin air. I sighed, hopelessness seeping into me, still trying to tease myself with the idea of someone else murdering Chris, someone else sneaking in to our house to tell Dan, or maybe the boy heard it in a dream, or _they_ told him...but I knew deep down in my gut that he was in fact the one with blood on his hands and I couldn't stand it.

I wanted to scream and shout and kick everything in sight, letting out all my frustration at Dan, at my jealousy for PJ, at Chris being dead as a doornail, at not being able to help any of these situations in any way whatsoever...but I couldn't. It just didn't feel right to destroy everything in a dead man's house. Who knows, half of his stuff might've been things for his nephews and neices to inherit, plus PJ still had to live there.

Who was I kidding, he'd have to move out, he wouldn't be able to cope. But still, it wasn't right.

Thinking of PJ, I was reminded of the promise I made him and reached into my pocket for my phone, not having enough joy at that moment to do an impression of Lemon Grab. I'd put PJ's number up on the way here so it was there when I unlocked my phone. I took a deep breath and went to hit the call button. But what was I to say when he picked up?

_"Oh hey PJ, I'm standing in your bathroom just now trying to figure out wether Chris is playing dead or not. Say, if he is dead, I think Dan done it. Fancy asking him for me?"_

_"PJ, I'm so sorry, but I found Chris. He's...he's dead."_

_"PJ...Chris is..."_

No, this wasn't the kind of conversation you can have over the phone. I couldn't do it, ending up locking my phone again and shoving Lemon Grab back into my jeans before taking shaky steps towards Chris, still sniffing and hiccuping.

He looked even worse up close. He hadn't shaved before the inncident, so there was at least half a cenntimetre of stuble around his lips- he badly needed a haircut too, actually- the blood everywhere plus Chris's startled eyes...I remember taking a few seconds to close them over like they do in all those touching films and crying again, like when you watch those touching films.

I walked out on him, back down the road and into the now pitch-black night, heading home. I had a lining of guilt around my stomach, leaving him in there; I had to keep looking back at the house, apologising silently to Chris- wherever he was- as I went. I decided I'd ask PJ what he wanted me to do.

Apart from the ripping guilt, everything else was numb, and all I could think about was the current situation; for once in half a year my head wasn't being taken up by Dan. I didn't even care if Dan _had_ done it, to be honest. I was just thinking about how it would break my heart to see how PJ reacted. I half wished I'd let him go, but knew it was for the best.

Soon I was in the lift, shooting up to our floor and knocking on the door. No answer.

**These seem to be getting shorter and shorter, don't they? I'm so sorry, but I'd rather start updating frequently with a little bit at a time than write a big long thing once a week. I WILL START UPDATING BECAUSE I NEED TO STOP BEING SO FRICKIN' LAZY!**

**I think this story is almost at an end- depends on how I'm gonna tackle writing it- which is a shame because I really do love this myself!**


	7. Dan?

"Dan!" I called, feeling panic settle it's cold hands on my shoulders. I shouldn't have left, we should've all went round tomorrow. How could I have been so stupid? "DAN! Open the bloody door! It's me, Ph-Bob!"

I chekced the time on my phone, completely ignoring Lemon Grab yet again: almost midnight. I wasn't liking this. I hammered on the door again, pounding my fists upon it untill I heard footsteps, at which point I breathed out, relieved.

Dan opened the door, not scared like earlier, but more confidently this time, almost throwing it open to see me, like he was excited. But I was not in the least bit excited to see what I saw; Dan. With blood on his hands.

My eyes widened with a horrible mixture of fear, panic and shock, hoping that it was the same ketchup that could've been on the knife, but I knew it was hopeless. Dan saw this, drinking in my obvious fear with his eyes. "What's the matter, Phil?" he grinned.

"I...you remembered-? What happened? Dan?"

He said nothing, only grinned down at me in enjoyment, which enraged me. "WHAT THE FUCKING HELL HAPPENED?!"

"Oh Phil, you never swear," he purred.

"Where's PJ?"

He started the hysterical laughing again, but this time it was more as if someone had just told him a really funny story or an amusing joke and not as if he was a crazy knife-weilding madman. "We...we had some fun, to say the least."

I felt the rage I had experienced a minute ago drain out of me, along with all the colour on my cheeks. I knew I looked even more like a ghost than I did normally.

"What's the matter, Phil?" he repeated.

"Where is he?"

I was still standing on the doorstep, and as I relised this I pushed past him into the hall, but he was too fast, grabbing my collar before I could make it a few paces and slamming me into a wall chest first. He pinned me there with his body as he muttered into my ear, "Hey, it's not your turn yet. I'm glad you're enthusiastic, Phil, but at least let me clean up first."

I froze. Clean up?

"Good boy, Phil. But I'm afriad I don't trust you to stay here all by yourself. Follow me, if you will," he smirked. "Oh wait, you don't have a choice, do you?"

"And what if I don't come willingly? What then?" I choked out.

I felt something cold and sharp against my throat and knew exactly what it was. I gulped, feeling my Adam's Apple knock against the sharp blade, slightly digging into me. Not enough to hurt let alone do any damage, but enough to let me know it was there and enough to let me know that it was lethal. I felt a tear escape my eye and tried to keep my sob down in my chest where it belonged.

"Don't fuck with me, Phil," he whispered.

My voice rang out with more confidence than I felt at that moment. "You'll kill me anyway."

"I didn't say that, did I?"

"Where's PJ then?"

The blade cut slightly into my throat with a painful nip, making me yelp. "If I was you, I'd stop asking pointless questions, Phil," he said dangerously. "It wasn't my plan to kill you, but if I have to, I will. I'll cut you and torture you untill the very end. Do you want that?"

I couldn't speak, so I had to shake my head, making the knife cut into me more, this time drawing the slightest bit of blood. I watched Dan's eyes light up as he watched the warm substance dribble down my neck before he dragged me upstairs to his room.

It was in pristeen Dan condition; bed made, nothing on the floor, all his games stacked neatly, his DVDs in the shelf above and all of his guitars in a neat line.

I was looking around the room, so I didn't have the chance to see where he pulled the handcuffs and gag from, but I did know I was being chained to his bed and I was being silenced with the rag being tied around my head. "Mmmm!" I protested.

"Do shut up, peasant," said Dan before sniggering at his own joke. He disappeared out the door and back down the stairs to clean up said 'mess'.

I tried to wonder what mess he could possibly be talking about, but all I could imagine was a dead PJ on the floor, the whole room covered in blood; tidy Dan wouldn't like that.

_He's insane, Phil_, a little voice inside my head whispered to me. _He's not really going to kill you. Why would he? Maybe him remembering your name all of a sudden had to filled with death threats. You don't know what's going on in his head._

The bit at the end was true at least, but I didn't believe the rest; I never did know what was going on in Dan's head, even before he was like this, which was maybe why I was always so easy to prank and attack. I was still as gullable as that; I should've ran when I didn't hear anything, called the police...

_What an idiot you are._

And for once I agreed with that little voice, who was now attacking me too.

I lay there and excepted it. Dan said he wasn't going to kill me, but I wasn't stupid; Chris, PJ...I was next. At least I'd be with them, instead of stuck here with this monster. I almost wanted to die, to escape him. _Let him kill me, let him bury me in the ground, let the police find me ten years later all decomposed; I don't care._

Said murderer crept back into the room just at that moment, grinning. It wasn't an insane grin...but an insane grin all the same, if you're getting me. The grin of something sinister.

"Let's go."

He tried to untie me, with which I wriggled and squirmed, fighting him with all my strength- which, admittedly, wasn't much, let's just face it.

"Don't you want me to untie you Phil?"

"Nmmm!"

"I'm sorry, could you speak up, I didn't quite catch that," he smirked.

I said nothing. I wasn't playing his stupid games; he didn't like that, not one bit. He practically ripped the gag from my mouth and slapped me in the face, making my head turn around and my freshly cut neck burn.

"TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK YOU SAID, YOU LITTLE BITCH!"

Still wincing from the pain slightly, I spat, "Kill me."

"I didn't know you wanted to die, Phil."

This seemed to truely puzzle him, and he sat back on his bed as he thought.

_You want to die! You want to die! You don't want any of this, you won't let Dan show you're fight, you won't give him what he wants! You. Are. Ready. To. Die. Quickly and with the least pain possible._

But something in me just wasn't accepting this fully and Dan knew this as well. I regretted my decision; I decided to talk to him. "Dan...it doesn't have to be like this. You don't really want to kill me, do you?"

I don't exactly know why, but there were tears in his eyes, a world away from what he was five minutes ago; he was a broken man, sitting there crying and even though he had threatened me with such horrible words a minute ago, I felt my heart break and another tear fall down my cheek just watching him.

"C'mon, untie me and I'll give you a hug, yeah...?"

He slowly turned to me with wide, scared eyes. I thought I saw a bit of the confusion back in his eyes, but I couldn't be sure. "Y-you want me to untie you?"

"If you promise you won't go stabbing me or anything, okay Danny?" I smiled, trying to make a small joke out of it, though inside I was petrified.

He moved over slowly, cautiously, as if testing me to see how far I'd let him come untill I started fighting again, but I lay still untill he was kneeling beside my thigh, unhooking the cuffs from the bedposts. I let my arms fall, rubbing my left wrist where the metal had started to cut into my skin.

"Thanks, I was starting to get a bit of pins and needles."

"Glad I could h-elp. I- I-"

"Don't."

"Okay," he barely whispered.

I shuffled closer to him, feeling him tense as if _I_ would attack _him_. He tensed further as I slung an arm around his neck, resting my head on his shoulder and he slung an arm around my waist.

"I-"

"Don't," I repeated.

"But I should explain myself, I mean-"

"Not now."

He didn't bother trying to talk again, since he knew I would only interupt him. I didn't want him to talk, I just wanted to sit here with his arm around me. It wasn't in any way as if we were cuddling as lovers- it was far too tense and awkard for that- but it still felt nice to have Dan with me, after having him taken away from me for so long. Well, I didn't know if he _was_ back, and I guess that's what I was scared of; finding that as soon as he opened his mouth he'd be back to...well, you know.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. I wasn't sure if it was directed at me or if he was just thinking out loud, so I saved myself the embarrassment and stayed silent. I didn't think he really cared.

**Longer chapter than usual! ^_^**

**I've been editing a video along with this and trying to solve the mysteries of Deviant Art as well, so that's why this is a bit delayed...**

**I'm so shocked that I've actually almost finnished this, this is like the first finnished story in the whole two years I've been on this website, oh my God XD **


	8. Too Good To Be True

We sat there for the longest time, just thinking. Nothing was said- because nothing _had_ to be said- and we were both whole worlds away from each other's arms. I couldn't stop thinking about Dan, about what was wrong with him, about everything. I was so confused by it all and I knew he was the only one that could answer my questions, but a strange fear gripped me and I just couldn't bring myself to ask; why break the beautiful silence over something so selfish?

I think we both jumped a foot in the air when my phone started buzzing, playing I Belong To You by Muse on the highest volume it could achieve, the piano giving us both chills as Muse often did. Well, before Dan's...condition, I suppose you could call it.

My first thought was that maybe PJ wasn't dead and had somehow reached his phone and was calling to get help- I didn't think on it too long to understand how unlogical it was, so just shut up. Dan seemed to see my path of thinking too as I went to answer it. "It's not him. He...he's..."

I froze for a second, accepting that two of my best friends had been killed, possibly on the same night and by my bestest friend. I felt so calm about it all, which is completely mad. I pressed the answer button to the unknown number, pressing my cold phone to my ear. He- I was positive it was a man on the other side- didn't even give me a chance to reply.

"Get. Out."

"Pardon?"

"Get out of there. He's not stable," the hoarse whisper repeated.

"Who is this?" I asked in the most normal way possible, looking to see if Dan was suspicious.

"Just get out."

And with that last command, he hung up on me. _How could he possiby know about Dan?_

Dan wasn't even looking at me at this point, he was staring out of his window down at the street below, grinning even though he could see practically nothing in the light of those crappy street lamps. At first I thought it was just his normal Dan grin, but my heart dropped when I realised it was in fact, that smile I had nightmares about. That smile that looked as if Satan himself had lifted the corners of his mouth to almost touch his ears. That. Fucking. Smile.

"D-Dan?" I tried to keep myself calm.

He turned to face me painfully slowly, not moving his face from that crazy grin an inch. I don't know where that damn knife kept coming from, but it made another appearance at that moment, slipping into Dan's hand again. "Phil," he purred.

I scuttled away from him, making the stupid mistake of looking into his eyes too long; I toppled off of the bed and landed with a thud on the carpet, smashing my head off of his bedside cabinet. He grinned as he sat on top of me, pinning me there.

He chuckled softly, something un-Dan dancing around in his deep eyes. "Oh Phil."

He whispered my name with such care and love it would've been beautiful if we were in any situation but this; if he was normal, I guess I'm trying to say. But of course, he wasn't. I blamed myself for Dan's condition- of course I did- and I guess this was my punnishment, huh?

"I knew it was too good to be true. Look Dan, please...I'm you're friend, ignore...ignore _them_," I whispered. "They don't know shit."

I expected him to go back to his strangely seductive intimidating but instead he threw his head back and laughed. I could feel his stomach lurching around with his chest on my hips and I was curious as to what was suddenly so damn hilarious.

"Oh Phil," he chuckled, dying down a little. "Phil Phil Phil. You think I'm as mad as the mad hatter himself, don't you? You think Dexter has gotten to my head and now I'm away with the fairies."

"W- w-?"

"Don't interupt me when I tell you my story just before the death scene, that's a cruial part in any movie!" he snapped.

"Sorr-y," I muttered.

"I was never insane, Phil. I know, that's what insane people say, but I can prove it. My name is Daniel James Howell. I'm 21. Your name is Phillip Micheal Lester. We've lived together for years making YouTube videos in our flat in Manchester before this one. You're AmazingPhil because you're amazing and I'm danisnotonfire because I'm a twat. Chris and PJ were our friends and I play piano. Our favourite bands are My Chemical Romance and Muse and we met for the first time at the train station when I got off the train and we just stood there and hugged for about five minutes."

My jaw pretty much hit the floor as I watched him looking rather pleased with himself. "I- Why-? I don't understand-?"

"Do you not get why I was pretending, silly Philly?"

I winced at the old nickname before I shook my head.

"Well, wouldn't you have tried to send me to some sort of therapist if I was completely sane yet sat drooling over Dexter like a pycopath? So then it hit me; to be allowed to do whatever I wanted, winding you up as part of the deal, I should pretend to be mentally...injured. I was in all the drama clubs in school, y'know," he smiled.

"But Dan..." I hardly even whispered. I couldn't take any of this in and it was going around like a ping-pong ball in my head. "We- we could've worked through this. Chris wouldn't be dead, PJ wouldn't be dead...why didn't you just speak to me?"

He ignored my question like it had never been asked, bringing the knife he had presumably forgotten about for a minute to my throat once again, but not breaking the skin this time. But I could tell he wanted to and he always got what he wanted sooner or later.

"Dan, wait."

"Hmm, yeah I've been thinking myself too. How about one more day, Philly? I can beat you at sonic, we can make pancakes, make a nice video to say goodbye to everyone then watch some Death Note."

I could've cried. "How can I say no?"

**I'm sorry it's so short and I'm sorry I haven't updated in like forever, but I am going to start updating my stories again, I promise! New chapter tomorrow *pinky swears* **


	9. My Bid For Escape

**I'm sorry I never uploaded yesterday, I broke my pinkie promise now I shall die in 24 hours. Wait, wrong film. **

I slept with Dan that night.

No perverts, there was no 'Phan' sexytimes, there was no M-rated smut, there wasn't even any cuddling, we literally _just_ slept together. And even then it was only to keep an eye on me- he knew me too well, the way I'd try to run away from my problems all the time.

But Phil, how do you know it wasn't just to keep an eye on you? What if he actually loves you and is intimidating you in his totally sick way because-

I got up in the middle of the night to use the loo and he practically mugged me. Question answered, yes?

I woke up beside him, which would've been okay if I didn't a) forget where I was for a second and have it all rushing back to me and b) having Dan staring at me sleep like a madman, so I got the fright of my life. "You ready, Phil?"

I groaned. "For whaaaaat?"

"You know what. Our little..._day_?"

I froze, not liking his tone one bit; He bit his lip almost nervously as I paused."Uh, okay, yeah. I'll just go get a shower first."

"Savour it, Philly," he smirked. I shuddered. And though he didn't add _it'll be your last_, he didn't have to as the words were hanging around the room like a bad smell untill I slammed the bathroom door behind me. I started to panic.

The full brunt of everything suddenly hit me; I was going to die, I was never going to make another YouTube video ever again, I would never get to see how Dexter ends up, I'll never get to have another pjamma day with Dan, no more Phil is not on fire, no more...no more Phil. If it wasn't for YouTube, no one would have any idea that I, Phil, actually exsisted once. And maybe Dan would delete my channel? Everything I worked on for years...

I didn't even realise I had collapsed onto the floor crying untill Dan was banging on the door, sounding ticked off, worried even. "Phil! What're you doing in there? You better not try anything, I mean it!"

To be honest, it kind of hurt that he didn't even care I was crying. He might not be insane, but Dan still wasn't Dan; he might've looked the same, but his eyes no longer sparkled, he didn't have that same glow, he was as empty as if his soul had been sucked out with a straw. He hammered on the door again. "PHIL!"

I had a weapon, I realised with a small smirk. I wasn't going to come out, I would stay silent.

"PHIL!"

Nope.  
"PHIL GET THE FUCK OUT!" he screamed.

Nuh uh.

"Fine!" and suddenly the door stopped rattling on it's hinges as he padded away towards the kitchen, presumably. I knew I couldn't stay in here forever, but it was the best chance I had to live. I could hide out in here untill Dan had calmed down- if he did calm down. If he didn't...well, I was going to have to cross that bridge when I came to it.

Of course I was never that lucky. I heard Dan's angry footsteps returning and I knew what he was going to try and do; I rolled away from the door like an action-movie star just as he started to pound the hammer through the wood of the door.

I rushed to the bathroom window, trying to prise the window open; it wouldn't budge since we hadn't used it since we moved in. Shit. He was getting closer, and parts of the wood were starting to splinter. I even caught a glimpse of his hair, his eyes...the pure _fury_ on his face was horrible. I rattled on the handle once more, praying for it to suddenly snap open, for any kind of God to show me mercy.

_Click._

I couldn't believe my luck as I climbed onto the lid of the toilet and trying to pull my body through the window, not caring if I would fall about two storeys or more; if Vernon Dudley could do it, so could Phil.

And just like in the Harry Potter movies, my ankle was grabbed by a man as red as a tomato in rage. "Going. So. Soon?"


	10. Oh God

**((I NEVER GOT A CHANCE TO PROOFREAD THIS, IF THERE'S ANY MISTAKES I'LL CHANGE IT ASAP))**

**Guess who has English homework? #YOLO #procrastinator #badbitch #illshutupnow **

**sorry for not updating in forever, I've had many long nights sitting up thinking about what I'm going to do with this story...just kidding, I was on twitter :D :D (starsintheskyss)**

"I-I-" I choked.

"_WHY?!_"

I would never tell him. I wanted to scream at him that I wanted to cherish life and live every day like it was my last; like go sky diving or something, not sick mind games like this. I wanted to get to a million subscribers, I wanted to go everywhere, I wanted to help people, to love people, to meet people...I wanted Dan. I couldn't deny it; even the crazy pysco-Dan standing in front of me, red in the face and looking alarmly like Harry's dickhead of an uncle? I wanted him.

"What the fuck are you smirking at, do you think this is funny?"

"Why do you have to kill me, Dan? I know there's nothing wrong with you, ovbiously I mean you just go killing people, nothing wrong there. So what's up with me?"

He growled, "I JUST HAVE TO OKAY?"

"No. No, you don't. This..." I sighed, turning away from him. "This isn't you."

He approached me, his chest almost connecting with my back we were standing so close together. "What is then?" he breathed into my neck.

* * *

"Just admit it, you could never beat me at this game and you never will."

I felt a little bit pissed at this comment, but I didn't say anything; he could kill me any time any where and I wanted time to at least think up a plan. We were currently sitting on the couch playing Crash Bandicoot. I could probably beat him if I wanted to, but my mind was on escape routes and how to move to America and change my name, dye my hair and get a new face.

"Phil?"

I was snapped out of my thoughts. "Oh yeah, you totally beat my ass, man," I complied.

He stroked my knee suddenly and out of nowhere; I wanted to flinch away but was too scared to move an inch. He saw the look of horror ovbiously displayed on my face. "What's wrong, Philly?"

"I- nothing."

"Uh...okay..." he continued to stroke and I tried with all I could to ignore him and how awkward I felt. "D'you want a drink?"

I shook my head far too quickly, but Dan hardly seemed to notice. "Re-match?"

"Y-you're on!"

It was four o'clock and I was fast running out of time. Would Dan kill me at the strike of midnight or some sick crap like that, or would he kill me in my sleep? Maybe he'd wait untill morning, shaking me half-awake and then doing me in so as I had no idea what was going on in my sleepy state. I had a strange feeling it wouldn't be a slow death either.

"You've been a good boy today, I think you deserve those pancakes," he winked as he walked away off into the adjacent kitchen. _Maybe I do._

I looked around the room in pure awkwardness as I tried to block out his beautiful singing; he was singing Muse. Unintended, to be precise. I wanted to cry at how absolutely breath-taking his voice was, but there was a lot of things I was refusing to confess to today and this was one of many. That's when I saw it.

Easily nine inches- not even counting the handle- still stained and sunlight gleaming off it, I snatched up the knife from where Dan had left it on the coffee table. I spun it around on my fingers a few times, getting used to the fact that this knife had been used to kill two of my bestest friennds in the whole world; I wanted to cry so badly, but I had a better idea.

I tip-toed over towards the kitchen, Dan's singing getting louder if I was listening past the adreneline pumping around in my temples. Could I do this?

I knew the answer already, loud and clear like it had been whispered in a long forgotten dream; I had to.

"Uh, Dan?" I called, my voice suprisingly steady, my body suprisingly calm.

He opened the glass door and poked his head out. "Yea-"

He stopped, his mouth hanging open as he surveyed me clinging to the knife for everything I was worth; for my YouTube channel, for all those people I hadn't met yet, for everything I'd achieved...for my life. He held up both his hands in a white flag kind of position. "I- Ph-Phil, you wouldn't...you don't even know how to use a knife for Christ's sake, just put it down and save yourself an injury!"

I pinned him to the wall with a speed that shocked me nevermind him and held the same blade to his throat that he had just last night. "Try me," I whispered into the nape of his neck, making him shudder.

"Phil, seriously."

"I'm never been more serious in my life."

"You'd do this?"

"You were prepared to do it!" I hissed.

"I was pranking you, Phil, for crying out loud!" he screamed.

"LIAR!"

"I-"

All I could see was tinged red with my pure anger, hatred...and I had to admit it, love. But that just made me hate everything more. I thrusted my arm forward, not really knowing what I was doing but did I care? Heck no. I felt the blade slice right into Dan's chest and I pulled out, feeling his body tense as he crashed to the floor, yelling.

He squrimed around for a few seconds, and only when I saw the blood pool around him, did I realise what I had done. I'd...no. What? I'd actually killed him. I was going to live. I was going to see the sun rise tomorrow, I'd have my revenge on Dan, for PJ, for Chris...for me. I felt a strange pleasure as I watched the blood pool around his torso from the huge stab wound.

Tears started to roll down his checks, his shoulders shaking with his last shuddery breaths. "I- Phil...I really was...just pranking you..."

More tears fell and I realised they were coming from my eyes this time as the truth set in; Dan was...oh God. "No!" I screamed, getting down on my knees beside him. "Breathe!"

"...It's...it's too late...you twat..."

And as his body stilled, I knew he was gone. I was now the insane one.

**and that's the end of that :D **

**hope you enjoyed it! **

**GOOD NEWS; I'm planning a sequel as I do have very good ideas for continuing it :D**

**if you have any ideas I could maybe add into the sequel or things I could improve on feel free to leave a comment or PM me (where I will probably chat away to you for about ten years, haha) thanks for reading, I've loved reading each and every single one of your reviews, even though I never got to reply to a lot of them :3 **


End file.
